


What an Alice Does

by jeurfleur



Category: Alice in Wonderland (1951)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeurfleur/pseuds/jeurfleur
Summary: On her birthday, Alice gets assistance in self identity from the Cheshire Cat
Relationships: Alice/Cheshire Cat (Alice in Wonderland)
Kudos: 4





	What an Alice Does

Alice laid on her bed staring at her ceiling, winding her pocket watch. A discoloration on the matte white surface seemed to resemble something. A face. A cake. A monkey. She traced the outline of the shape in her view with her finger. The tablecloth felt coarse as she drew with her fingertip. 

Alice heard mumblings, breaking her concentration. Across the table to her right were the Hatter and March Hair, seemingly arguing over a piece of parchment. A large feather wavered violently over it, attached to a pen in the Hatter’s hand, scribbling frantically. The Hare whispered loudly over his shoulder in that loud way people do when they might as well be shouting.

“No no, that’s too long. Make it shinier.” He whisper shouted. “No now it’s too short.” The Hatter ripped off the top of the parchment and continued writing. Alice peeked under the table and saw a frightening mount of piled up parchment underneath, slowly moving as the Hatter discarded bits from the top.

“No hotter… now cooler…. There are too many e’s.” The Hatter remained silent, dipping his quill into the sugar bowl, seemingly filled with ink along with sugar. The sweet ink slopped over the bowl and littered the white cloth. 

“Excuse me, what are you writing? It seems very interesting.” Alice asked, casually pouring herself a cup of tea as she had grown accustomed to when at that particular party. 

The duo didn’t respond. Alice figured further attempts at conversation were useless, but she wasn’t doing anything else anyway. “I don’t think i’ve ever read a hot or cool story before.” she spoke a bit louder, to no avail. 

“And a straight line there, just below the sideburns.” The Hare insisted, pointing at the scribblings. Alice craned her head over to get a better look. She couldn’t make out the words but couldn’t see any pictures the Hare might be referring to. 

“Don’t go out of your way.” a light jovial voice crackled out of the open air. Alice looked right, left, then right again. Sitting across from her, reclining in his seat was the Cheshire Cat. “You’ll find just as much sense staying in your chair.” He stretched out his short limbs, purple stripes tinted red and blue by the lanterns. 

“So you’re saying I’m mad too?” Alice replied unfazed, peeking over her cup at the Cat as she sipped her tea. 

“Oh nononononoononononononono…….… no” The Cat replied, too assuredly with a big eye scrunching grin. Alice smiled knowingly back. 

“What has gotten into those two anyway. For being so rambunctious they do tend to work in a pattern.” Alice said.

“Hmmm yes, clockwise around the table.” The Cat replied, his stripes spinning around his body as he floated upside down above his chair. “Well, it would seem someone has taught the Dormouse to, um, write.” He said, casually, motioning for a cup of tea to move over to him in the air.

“Who here is willing or qualified to teach anything, let alone writing?” Alice wondered aloud.

“Who cannot say.” the Cat said, sipping loudly on his tea. “Perhaps he knew all along. Regardless, he began writing in his sleep, which is very important you see.”

“Well I can see how it’s novel, but why important?” Alice asked.

“Well, many people in Wonderland can write, but they’ve only ever written the Queen’s way. The Dormouse, oblivious in his slumber, began writing about himself. You can imagine how enlightening his records are, or rather see for yourself.” The Cat brandished his paw over to where the Mouse usually sat on the table. In his place was a series of z’s written in a column which ran off the tablecloth and snaked into the woods out of site.

“Indeed.” Alice replied, trying not to laugh. 

“Indeed indeed, and once enlightened, the Hatter and Hare began writing of the world of themselves. Now they live within the world of Hatter and March Hare.”

“I suppose that’s just as well.” Alice said, observing the duo arguing continuously. “After all, it isn’t my unbirthday anyway. I’m sure they would just chase me off any other day.” She took a sip, watching over the rim of her cup for the Cat’s reaction. Her statement took a few seconds to make contact, after which the Cheshire Cat’s fur began alternating bright colors in bursting sequence.

“Oh it’s your birthday!” The Cat screamed, tossing his cup directly onto the Hatter’s parchment. The Hatter ignored this and simply tore off another chunk. “We must accomplish something! We must um” He stuttered, feeling around the table. “Oh, oh, I know. We must determine the World of Alice.” 

“That sounds interesting, but I can’t say I’m much of a writer.” Alice said, pouring herself another cup. “And besides, I’m not even sure what an Alice does at this point.” The Cat looked at Alice intently. “I mostly just observe things and daydream. Perhaps, if I followed the Dormouse’s account into the unknown, I’d discover something about myself.” Alice remained in her chair. The Cheshire Cat looked expectantly, waiting for her to get up and follow the trail of z’s. Alice noticed his expression.

“Oh yes, you wouldn’t know. I noticed that I always seem to know what I should do, but I always ignore my own advice. So, I’ve decided to voice what I shouldn’t do, and I find I indeed do the opposite.”

“Well isn’t that neat.” The Cat purred, smiling bigger. “But we’re still in our conundrum. What does an Alice do? Maybe, if action is not advisable, then simulated action is in order.”

“A game?” Alice asked.

“Yes Yes, a game of queens.” A set of cards appeared in a poof of smoke. 

“But we're already in the Queen’s World.” Alice interjected. 

“Then a game of kings.” The Cat offered, poofing into existence a set of Chess. 

“Hmm, I believe I know of a World of Kings already as well.” Alice said.

“Then, simply a game of Alice and the Cheshire Cat.” The Cats said finally, and the world seemed to poof away from Alice’s eyes.

She found herself standing on a checkered floor within a mass of seemingly nothing. Alice looked up and saw the same sky as before stretching forever. A table stood on the other side. Sitting next to it was the Cheshire Cat, relaxing on an ornate padded chair. Alice took a tentative step forward, and her step echoed in an odd way, as if multiple steps were echoing at once. Choosing to ignore this, she strode over to the table. 

“Now it is time to find out, what an Alice does.” The Cat said, waving towards a chess board on the table. Only two pieces lay on its surface. A tiny table with a tiny Cheshire Cat sitting next to it, and a tiny Alice. 

Alice considered what was advisable.

“I should absolutely…” she paused “play this game.” She stayed still for a moment or two, but inevitably placed her hand on the Alice piece. Immediately she felt something hug her sides, and looked back instinctively. Behind her was the back of her head. However, it was enormous, and beyond the checkered floor. Alice looked back at the chess board, and realized the tiny table had another tiny table on it, and presumably this arrangement continued both ways. 

Alice considered what this meant.

The sense of self can be brittle and Alice’s seemed to snap with an audible sound echoing into eternity. The Cheshire Cat began to giggle incessantly, trying to muffle his laughter without success as he rolled jovially around in the air. His joyous rompus about the joke he played kept on for a few minutes. However, eventually the laughter died down, and the Cat became still. He looked at Alice expectantly, seemingly waiting for her to finish. But she didn’t move. After a while tears began welling up in her glazed eyes.

“Um… writer…” the Cat said to me. “When will you write Alice finishing our game?”

I’m afraid mr. Cat, that I don’t have a solution. You have written yourself into quite the corner, and simply making it not so would seem pretty cheap. 

The Cat pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat appearing on his brow.

“Then, perhaps a new element earlier in the story is in order.” He said, trying his best to keep his nerve.

I suppose that would work. Do you have any suggestions?

The Cat’s eyes darted about, desperately looking for an appropriate solution. 

“An alarm!” The Cat said a bit too loudly. He cleared his throat and repeated “An alarm from a watch, if you please.” The Cat smiled his best at me.

Very well mr. Cat, that works. Without warning the watch in Alice’s pocket, which she had forgotten, screamed it’s alarm, waking her from her trance. She found herself in the dark woods surrounded by something warm and fluffy. She wiped her eyes of her left over tears and saw she was laying against the Cheshire Cat, who had somehow grown large and wrapped around her.

Alice le out a sigh of immense relief and snuggled into the fur behind her, and pulled the Cat’s giant tail around her. 

“I think you were maybe a tad too rough with me that time Cat.” Alice said, her voice tired. 

“Oh I do apologise for that. But I really did want to know what an Alice does.” The Cat said in return, his voice calm and soothing. “And I believe I found it out.”

“Oh please tell me.” Alice said, slowly dozing.”

“An Alice does exactly what she isn’t supposed to.”


End file.
